Desired by the Pack: Part One: A BBW Paranormal Romance (5 page)

After performing a sweep of January’s property, Beck prowled through the house, following her scent to the second story. Her sweet perfume mingled with a darker, woodsy musk that he knew was the remnants of his seed inside her body. Possessiveness and satisfaction surged through him, quickly chased by guilt as he thought about the broken condom crumpled in his pocket. He’d come inside to let her know the latex hadn’t withstood their frantic coupling, but by the sound of the house, she was asleep. And part of him didn’t want to tell her, because this was the way she should always smell.

Stopping in front of a closed door, he spread his hand across the wood and listened. Nothing moved inside the
room. The sun had crested the horizon by the time he, Maverick and Anders had satisfied themselves with the safety of her land, but he still retained an echo of the moon-charge that heightened his senses at night. He could hear the faint rasp of her breath, deep and even with sleep.

In another few minutes, he would lose that sense of her unless he opened the door and joined her.

He would lose her scent, too, because the sun was a devouring thing that swallowed the Moon’s gifts during daylight hours.

His inner wolf snarled at the prospect of losing
her
but Beck’s options were few.

She hadn’t exactly opened her arms and welcomed him into them. Not that he needed the invitation--he had no qualms taking what he wanted, especially if the only thing standing between him and his desire was a thick wall of stubbornness--but instinct told him
taking
would be a mistake.

He only had one chance with her and this was it. If he took, the push could send her over the edge. If he pushed, she wouldn’t be waiting the next time he came back.

And he
would
come back. She resonated with a rightness that appealed to him as man and wolf. Beck had given up on finding his Moon-given mate, but hope had come back to him during the hours Cross spent driving around, confusing anyone who thought to pursue.

Turning away from the mystery on the other side of the door, he went back outside. Cross, Maverick and Anders leaned against the truck, waiting for him.

Prince hovered there, too. Beck knew that body language, a yearning for inclusion in a group that couldn’t possibly open its arms.

“Are we pulling out?” Maverick asked.

“The sun’s up.” Prince turned his face east and squinted into the soft light. He didn’t need to voice his invitation.

Traveling by day would be a strain, leaving the pack as vulnerable as humans. As a rule, shifters hunkered in their dens, hidden and safe, during daylight hours. The property was secure for now but whatever January’s housemate was into wasn’t worth the risk. Beck shook his head. “Let’s go.”

Crouching, Anders flowed into his natural form, the gray wolf he’d been born. Maverick held the door of the truck open and Beck’s alpha second sprung up into the cab. He settled in the back, his preferred place when riding inside the confines of the truck, and lifted his muzzle to sniff the air.

Sex smell
.

Beck grinned. Some things, a nose knew regardless the position of the moon or sun in the sky.

Anders chuffed and curled his lip.
Something wrong with her wolf.

She claims she doesn’t have one.

She does. Asleep. Deep, deep asleep.
Anders turned his gaze to the window and didn’t reach out again.

Rolling Anders’ impressions over in his mind, Beck separated his second’s disapproval from what he’d said. Anders had clearly taken issue with something about January, but his observations about her wolf stirred Beck’s curiosity.

He wanted to know her secrets.

Minutes later, Cross was backing down the driveway. He nodded at Prince, who still stood on the lawn, watching them leave.

“Think that’s going to be trouble?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.” Beck closed his eyes and reached out, extending mental feelers for Jared, who had separated from them at the beginning of the night.

Sunlight warmed his face through the windshield. At the same time, it severed his mental link with the pack. Jared was a fuzzy impression in the back of Beck’s mind, alive but indistinct.

Jared’s report would have to wait for nightfall.

“Her last name’s Cabot,” Cross said.

Beck opened his eyes. Cross pointed at the rural route mailbox at the end of the drive.

Maybe he had a way of finding out what January was hiding.

“You still have a phone in the glove box?” Not waiting for an answer, Beck popped the small door in front of him and felt through the vehicle’s paperwork.

“It’s in there.”

Beck kneed the glove box closed and turned the phone over in his hands, working out the details. Werewolves had little use for cell phones. Pack link suited most needs and the likelihood of being in range of a service tower when he needed to make a call was slim. Cross kept a pre-paid phone in the truck for emergencies. To Beck’s knowledge, the phone had never been used.

Now he jabbed his square fingertip at the tiny buttons, muttering every time he had to back up and delete a mistake. Finally he punched out the entire thirteen digit number to the landline in Trondheim, where their Norse brethren maintained a genealogical record of all known werewolves and their descendants.

“What are you thinking?” Maverick asked.

Beck left a message and pocketed the phone.

“I’m not sure yet.” He hesitated before adding, “That condom broke.”

Cross whistled. “Guess we’ll be coming back.”

They returned to their Peace River encampment an hour later. Beck sent Maverick, Cross and Anders to find their beds and stretched out as best he could across the bench seat of the truck, settling in to wait until he could get some answers to his questions about the mysterious winter-wolf who held such a powerful draw for him.

4

January managed to dodge Beck for the remaining two nights of her Heat cycle, but her avoidance hadn’t come cheap. Both nights after her shift, she’d found Cross’s truck parked in her driveway, and had kept on driving to a nearby motel, not returning home until late in the mornings. As she headed home from her eleven-to-eleven shift, she crossed her fingers that Beck had given up. The lack of silver pick-up in the driveway filled her with relief. She missed her bed
and she needed to find Prince, who she hadn’t seen since that night at the biker bar.

But as she parked her car, she realized she had bigger problems than Prince, starting with the alpha werewolf sitting on the top step of her porch.

“What are you doing here?” She slammed her car door and stalked toward the porch, shoring up her resolve to get rid of him. Unsure she would be able to make him leave, because he looked too good. Too enticing. Heat had passed but she still wanted to climb on top of him and stake her claim. Goddess, she was a fool.

“I wanted to see you.” His lip curled slightly. “You stink like death.”

“I work with dying people.” She stopped at the bottom of the steps. There was no sign of Cross’s big silver truck. “So, what is this? A solo mission?”

He steepled his fingertips together and studied her over the tips. “Do you think you’ll need more than one of us?”

She thought about that while separating her house key from the others on her key ring. Her body was doing okay, hot and needy but nothing abnormal. Nothing Heat-fueled. She had a grip on things. She could totally send him away.

But the night was still early and she’d spent so many cycles writhing on an empty bed, praying for dawn. And the nights she had company weren’t much better, always driven by an imperative to find relief, never by actual desire for pleasure. Until Beck.

She really, really wanted something for pleasure, for once.

“I haven’t had dinner yet and I’m dead tired. I was going to microwave a bowl of canned soup, masturbate a few times, and try to knock myself out with a bottle of wine.” She glanced up from her keys and met his gaze. “I still might stick to my plan. So maybe. Yes. It does matter if it’s just you, or if the others are out there somewhere, hunting rabbits in my woods.”

“Cross is out back in your kitchen ruining your dinner plans.”

She smelled it then, the smoky, mouthwatering aroma of a sizzling steak. Her stomach growled. “Did you guys break a window to get in?”

“No. Cross spotted your spare key.” Beck smiled. “Why don’t you put away your surly face, come inside, and let us take care of you?”

“For dinner,” she said.

“I figured we’d see to your other needs, too.”

Her core softened and fluttered, silently communicating a hunger even deeper than the one in her belly.

Beck’s nostrils flared. His own starved growl rumbled in his chest.

January swallowed past her dry throat. Jabbing her finger at him, she said, “The only reason I’m saying yes is there are two of you. If it was just you, you’d be gone.”

By himself, Beck was too dangerous to her.

Unfolding his long limbs, he stood and walked down the steps. He stopped so close, his chest grazed her breasts. Layers of clothing separated them but she still felt his heat.

“Do I scare you, winter-wolf?” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip.

“I told you--”

“And I’m a man who knows where to go when I want information.”

She went cold. “What did you do?”

“Nothing not within my rights, which include a mating bond with you.” He drew his fingertip down her throat, then brought it back up. His knuckle lifted her chin, tilting her gaze to his. “Anders can see her. Did you know that?”

The chaotic spin of her thoughts stumbled over his words. “Her?”

“Your wolf. White like winter, the way I knew she would be.” His gaze probed her eyes, as if he expected to see the wolf in her pupils.

Her pulse pounded in her ears. January jerked back and spun away from him. “You don’t know
anything
. If you did, you wouldn’t be here. I want you to leave.”

Beck caught her before she managed to put any distance between them. Wrapping his arms around her, forearms locked beneath her breasts, he brushed his lips along the shell of her ear. “I want to know you. Let me.”

The warm, entreating whisper rendered her knees as weak as her will. She sagged against him, wishing she deserved this strong, sheltering embrace all the time.

“Let me stay tonight. Let me come to you again tomorrow.” He lifted one hand and spread his fingers over her throat, gentle but possessive. “Say yes.”

  “I don’t want you to know things about me.” She closed her eyes against the crisp white stars in the clear sky. Didn’t want him to know, but had to tell him. Since he probably wouldn’t want to hold her like this once he knew the truth, she stayed where she was for as long as she could have it.

“I do have a wolf, but I lost her for a while. I…I gave her away. And when I finally got her back, she was broken. Maybe Anders can see her, but he’s probably the only one who ever will.”

He gave no physical sign he’d heard her. After a moment, she released a ragged breath and broke away. “I’m going to eat. If you want to stay tonight…well, I want you, too. But I’ve come to terms with the things I can’t have, and you’re at the top of that list.”

She jogged up the stairs and into the house, leaving Beck behind.

The front rooms were dark but a light glowed at the end of the hall running down the middle of the first floor. January’s heart raced. She stopped at the foot of the staircase to remove her jacket and calm herself.

“If you don’t come in here and eat, I’m going to come out and get you.” Cross emerged from the kitchen and crooked his fingers at her. “You’re going to need your strength tonight.”

She bit her lip and started toward him, lured by the promise of food. Heat did make her ravenous, a problem she usually tried to counter by crash dieting in the days immediately following. After twelve hours of living off raw vegetables and hummus, her willpower crumbled in the face of a steak. By the time she reached him, she’d wrestled her emotions under an uncertain, thin control, and turned everything else over to her stomach.

“Prime rib.” If Cross picked up on her turmoil, he gave no indication.

“Mind reader, much? And where did you get that? Not in my freezer.” Her voice came out normal, casual. Relieved, she peeked at the steaks in progress. Twelve hour shifts and unpredictable schedules meant she and Prince either dined out or made do with staples from the frozen and canned aisles.

“My telepathic abilities are limited to pack. I do have several sisters, though. I know how hormones and stomachs work.”

Speaking of hormones. Hers didn’t seem to care about the wrenched, twisted state of her heart, or the fact her body could use a rest after three days of intense lust. They kicked up when she drew near enough to smell Cross. The sea-breezy fresh notes of his scent had her tilting her head curiously.

“Where are you from? Here?”

“North. Vancouver.”

“You don’t sound Canadian.”